Of Snitches and Snorkacks
by DeathUponAStick
Summary: Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood's attempts to recruit more members for the Society for the Promotion of Elfen Welfare are largely unsuccessful, until Luna takes up Malfoy on a rather absurd proposal. HermioneLuna. New chapter!
1. Beware of Nargles

Hello, friends. I just wanted to thank you all for the reviews on my take on Malfoy Manor. That was my first fic and everything, so I'm very glad you all liked it. I'm working on some other Malfoy POV fics, particularly during the epic final battle for Hogwarts. 

But angstfic is a bit depressing, so I decided to write a bit of more lighthearted material. I terribly missed Hogwarts, and I wondered what would have happened if the trio were able to have Voldy-free lives during their school days. This fic is a result of that speculation, as well as my secret obsession with Hermione/Luna. Hope you enjoy, and mucho thanks.

-DeathUponAStick

"Honestly, this is the perfect time to recruit members for S.P.E.W.!"

"Even if you are Head Girl, Hermione, I don't think spew's going to be any more popular.""This has nothing to do with being Head Girl, and it's S.P.E.W.!"

"Well, how was it when you were being introduced, you had a big shiny _spew _button next to your Head Girl badge for everybody to see?"

"It's called advertising, Ronald, and I know you're jealous for not getting Head Boy!"

"Who said I was jealous?"

"Everyone saw you try to hex Malfoy right after you saw the badge on him. It's not exactly the best kept secret!"

Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley were bickering once more as Harry Potter trailed a bit behind them, trying to avoid the line of fire in hopes that he at least would get to the Gryffindor common room in one piece—in other words, another typical day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Before the beginning of her seventh year, when Hermione had received her owl for school, a badge for Head Girl had fallen out along with a list of her needed supplies. This had come as a pleasant surprise for her, indeed, and her position would be perfect in pursuing the expansion of S.P.E.W. However, the reluctance of her two best friends on their first night at school was a bit of an obstacle, not to mention Ron's renewed resentment towards Draco Malfoy for snatching the position of Head Boy.

"This has nothing to do with that prat!" Ron snapped.

"Well then stop whining about it and help me with S.P.E.W.!"

"It's no use, Hermione, and you know it!"

She spun around and faced Harry, electricity crackling at the ends of her bushy hair. "You!"

He flinched, his strategy of keeping quiet obviously failed. "Wh—what?" he stuttered.

"You support S.P.E.W., right, Harry?" she asked. Her glare of death dared him to say otherwise.

Harry swallowed. "Erm—"

Hermione groaned in frustration. "Boys! All you do is think about Quidditch, don't you? I'm sorry that you have to worry about Gryffindor tryouts, but there are more important issues present, if you didn't know that already!" She stepped forward, and the two boys stepped back, afraid. "You don't understand that house elves deserve their own rights!"

"I believe you," came a dreamy voice from behind them.

Hermione turned to see a girl with straggly blonde hair, wand tucked behind her ear, with familiar radish earrings and a butterbeer cork necklace.

_Great_, Hermione thought. _The last person I wanted to see._

Hermione heard Ron and Harry snickering behind them. She shot them a quick glare that silenced them immediately.

"I don't think this is the time, Luna," she muttered.

"Oh, no, I think S.P.E.W. is an excellent organization," Luna replied. She was the only other one besides Hermione to pronounce S.P.E.W. properly. The Ravenclaw held up the latest edition of her father's absurd magazine, _The Quibbler_. "In fact, Daddy just published an article on a house elf rebellion in Wales after their masters insisted on soy sauce in their eggs instead of ketchup. The trigger was that elves insisted that ketchup is the most nutritious alternative and when their masters refused—"

"_Luna_!" Hermione snapped, before the Ravenclaw could continue about her outrageous story. The younger girl recoiled, her wide silvery widening a little more in surprise at Hermione's sharp tone of voice. The Gryffindor immediately regretted shouting. "Luna," she said, a bit calmer, "I'm sorry, I just don't want to hear about the war of what is the healthier condiment, all right?"

"I can tell you later," Luna said.

"That would be best," Hermione replied. Her earlier outburst at the younger girl had squeezed the anger out of her. Now she felt ashamed and exhausted.

"But I do want to help you with S.P.E.W.," Luna said. "It'll be like we're friends."

"Erm," Hermione mumbled. Was her dislike for Luna that obvious? "Yes, I suppose it would. Good night, Luna."

"Good night," Luna replied. "And do mind the Nargles. They tend to hide in beds and fancy biting your fleshier bits, particularly the lower regions."

"Thanks, Luna," Hermione said. "I'll—keep that in mind."

Luna smiled at her before she trotted away in the opposite direction.

The boys had made sure she was well out of earshot before they burst out laughing.

"A rebellion over soy sauce and ketchup?" Ron gasped. He had already forgotten his argument with Hermione.

"Didn't know it was such a big deal," Harry added, grinning.

Ron and Harry continued their way up the staircase to the common room. It was now Hermione trailing behind them, reflecting on her encounter with the Ravenclaw. Nobody else had expressed any interest in S.P.E.W. before, until now. And out of all people, it was Luna Lovegood, the girl who believed in Crumple Horned Snorkacks and crotch biting Nargles. A girl who, despite all those absurd things, also believed in her—

"Funny, though," Ron said. "Her common room's all the way on the other side of the castle."

That was true, Hermione thought. Luna did tend to stumble about as if she had gotten to places entirely by accident. But still, she couldn't have stumbled into the complete opposite of where she was supposed to be. That only meant that Luna was actually looking for Hermione in the first place.

The heat rushed to her face. Luna had completely gone out of her way to talk to her. That weird little Ravenclaw—

She didn't understand why she was so worked up about this. Luna had probably seen her S.P.E.W. button and wanted to ask her about it. After all, that was what she was doing, right? Still, she didn't need to add the warning about the crotch-biting Nargles. But that was quite normal for Luna, quite normal—

"Hey, Hermione," Ron said, snapping her out of her reverie. "What's the password?"

"What is it?" Hermione was much too flustered with herself to realize that they had just arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady.

Ron gave her an odd stare. "You're Head Girl. You should know the password, right?"

"Right," she mumbled. "It's uh—" She couldn't remember. _A Wrackspurt must be around, _she heard Luna inside her head. _They like to frazzle your brains, you know—_

"You do remember it, don't you?" Harry asked, a bit puzzled at her behavior. Hell, she was very puzzled at her own behavior.

"No, I know it," she snapped, more flustered than ever. "I do, I was just thinking about S.P.E.W.!"

"Well?" Ron was getting impatient.

"It's—"

A third year passed them. "Tangy pudding," he said to the Fat Lady.

"Yes, that's my favorite dessert too," the portrait replied, and the picture swung open to let him through.

"—that," she muttered. How could she forget?

"You sure you feeling okay, Hermione?" Harry asked, as they climbed through the portrait.

"I'm fine!" Hermione said, a bit harsher than she intended. She just needed to get away before she did any more odd things. "I'm just tired. Good night!"

"Yeah, night," Ron mumbled. He still hadn't stopped looking at Hermione oddly.

She escaped up the staircase to the girls' dormitory and thankfully, it was early enough that the other girls hadn't arrived yet. She quickly changed into her pajamas and before she climbed into bed, she found herself checking under the sheets for Nargles.


	2. A Productive Meeting

Thanks mucho for the reviews. Can't tell you how much I appreciate every review I get. It makes me feel very special. I'll probably post a chapter every two days or so, since I'm plugging through this rather quickly. 

Thanks again, and enjoy!

CHAPTER TWO 

"The first meeting of Society for the Promotion of Elfen Welfare is in order—"

"Luna, you don't need to do that."

"But it's an official meeting. It needs to be started properly."

"But it's just the two of us."

"It's still an official meeting of a registered school organization—"

"All right, all right! Just say it!!"

Hermione, after another week of trying to convince Ron and Harry about S.P.E.W., finally gave up and concluded that the only willing member was Luna Lovegood. The two of them were sitting at a table in the library one evening to discuss possible recruitment strategies.

Luna cleared her throat. "The first meeting of the Society for the Promotion of Elfen Welfare is in order on September eighth, nineteen-ninety-seven, at seven thirty in the evening, presided by President Hermione Jane Granger and Secretary Luna Clytemnestra Mary Sue Lovegood."

"Keep your voice down, will you?" Hermione asked, a bit exasperated. There were others in the library, studying, and their eyes were poring over the two of them, she knew. While Hermione squirmed under the scrutiny, Luna looked quite at home, as she scribbled notes on her piece of parchment, the tip of her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on writing.

"Let's see," she said, nibbling at the end of her quill, which Hermione noticed, changed color every time she lowered it to the paper. Now it was a shade of electric blue, and then turned a bright highlighter yellow.

"Our main objective is to recruit more members," Hermione said, as Luna wrote in large, loopy letters. "We've got to get our message out there—"

"We could publish something in Daddy's magazine," Luna suggested.

"Erm—" Hermione hesitated. She didn't quite like an article about S.P.E.W. residing between a guide on how to clear the latest Nargle infestation and the latest news about the Minister's army of Umgubular Slashkilters. "It's not very popular with students," she said, quickly.

"Oh," Luna said. Hermione sensed that she knew the true meaning behind the explanation, but didn't go any further. "Maybe later, then." She took another note, and her quill became an electrifying pink.

"Yes, later." _Maybe never_, Hermione thought.

"Wrackspurts are an effective advertising tool," Luna said in all seriousness. "We can condition S.P.E.W.'s message into their system so when they fly into people's brains they can be effectively persuaded. They're easily lured by honey, so we can easily catch a good few."

How did she know that Luna was going to mention Wrackspurts? _It was either that or the Blibbering Humdingers,_ thought Hermione.

"But it would probably be easier to train Blibbering Humdingers, since you could actually see them," Luna said, as if she had read Hermione mind. "You can make them spell 'S.P.E.W.' in formation. That would get some attention, wouldn't it?"

She scratched some more notes onto the parchment. Hermione was getting a headache watching the quill turn horrible shades of bright green, pink, purple, blue and yellow, then back to green again.

"That's good, Luna," Hermione said, rubbing at her forehead. "Can I see your notes?" She snatched the parchment from the table.

This certainly was a productive meeting. In Luna's flourished, looping scrawl was nonsense about those Wrackspurts and Humbibbers and her father's magazine and underneath that, was another suggestion of setting off Heliopaths on whoever disagreed with S.P.E.W.'s message. Hermione thought that was a half decent idea, if she wasn't quite bothered by the possibility of a death toll.

But beside the curly lettering, scribbled in the margin, was a doodle. It was a small, round little creature, with small furry ears, a pig's snout, curled horns and tiny beady eyes. It was rather cute.

"What is _that_?" she asked. She had never come across anything like this in any of her textbooks. But then again, this was Luna she was speaking to.

Luna sniffed. "That," she said, as if Hermione had been living under a rock for the past seventeen years, "is a Crumple Horned Snorkack."

"Really. I thought it'd be more—I don't know, majestic."

"Well, that one's just a baby," Luna replied matter-of-factly. "They grow quite large, you know."

"Have you seen one?" Hermione couldn't believe she was entertaining the idea that these things were real.

"Daddy and I went to Sweden one year to find them," Luna said, rather excitedly. "But we were only able to catch quick glimpses. They have an excellent land speed, so it's hard to catch up with them—but from our observations, they have a very bright purple hue."

Hermione wondered how it could be so hard to catch an animal that was such an obnoxious color, but kept her mouth shut. Arguing with Luna Lovegood went nowhere.

"I helped write a report on our trip for Daddy's magazine," Luna said. Apparently her excitement still hadn't died down. "Do you want to see it?"

"All right," Hermione replied, but even before she had agreed Luna was already digging through her school bag. She pulled out a wingless Snitch, a giant yellow mushroom, a half empty bottle of butterbeer, a Romanion Longhorn miniature (she had to shake it off her hand, since it had taken to nibbling at her fingers), and a pack of gobstones before she finally found the issue of _The Quibbler _she had been looking for.

"Here!" Luna said triumphantly. She scooted closer to Hermione (much to the Gryffindor's discomfort) as she flipped to the appropriate article and at once began to explain each picture at large.

Hermione was surprised to find herself enjoying the article. Yes, she knew that Crumple Horned Snorkacks were nonsense, but it was an enjoyable read. There were many pictures of the Swedish countryside, and in some, hidden in the corner, were flashes of bright purple. "We kept missing them by inches," Luna said, her face flushed.

She looked quite pretty that way, Hermione noticed. Luna had a childish enthusiasm that lit up her pale face, her silvery eyes wide and eager, voice animated as she explained the story in each photograph. Hermione certainly hadn't seen the Ravenclaw like this before. She doubted that anyone saw Luna like this before—with a pang of guilt, she realized that it was probably because nobody bothered to listen to her in the first place.

One photograph Hermione particularly liked was one with Luna and her father. The picture version of Luna waved at her, looking happier than Hermione had ever seen her, and beside the Ravenclaw, stood her father—a short, sprightly little man with long, thin white hair and cross eyes. They were standing with the hilly expanse behind them, waving madly at the camera.

"You can have this one," Luna said, pushing the issue towards Hermione. "I've got lots of these."

"Oh, thanks," Hermione mumbled, taken slightly aback by the Ravenclaw's sudden charity. Most of the time Hermione had ridiculed _The Quibbler_, and which turned into rather heated exchanges between the two.

"I'm sorry you didn't find a Snorkack during your trip," she said, and she actually meant it.

"Yes, we were very close," Luna said. "But I do plan on returning. You could come, if you'd like."

This struck Hermione by surprise. "I could come?" she asked.

"Oh yes," Luna replied. "During the trip I told Daddy you knew a good deal about other things, even if you are stubborn and close minded."

Hermione had no idea if she should take that as a compliment. "Really," she said. It was an odd feeling, knowing that Luna had spoken to her father about her.

"He said you could come the next time we go to Sweden."

So much for planning effective recruitment strategies. Usually, Hermione would be fuming, furious that nothing productive had been done at all, that she could have taken this time to finish a translation for Ancient Runes—but she felt anything but anger. In fact, as she sat beside this odd girl, with this absurd fascination for imaginary creatures, she felt—she groped around for the right word—content.

"Maybe," she said, smiling in spite of herself. "That would sound very nice, actually."


	3. The Proposal

Again, thanks for the reviews! Hope you enjoy!

DeathUponAStick

The Proposal

Due to Luna's rather ludicrous suggestions, Hermione finally concluded that the best method would be to pass out S.P.E.W. paraphernalia after school one afternoon. Uncreative yes, but it did get the message across.

Together, Hermione and Luna had made a good deal of S.P.E.W. equipment. There were buttons that had the S.P.E.W. logo and when pressed, squeaked, "Join S.P.E.W., Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare!" (Dobby had volunteered his services, being the unofficial mascot of the organization), as well as flyers bearing pictures of waving Dobby, the group's logo emblazoned on the tea cozy he used for a hat. Luna had even designed larger versions of Dobby's tea cozy, which were big enough to fit on the average human head.

They were outside, near the castle entrance so they could catch anyone leaving to take a break of fresh air after the usual doldrums of homework. Of course, being outside did have its disadvantages, since Luna was easily distracted. For example, while Hermione found herself scrambling to pass out buttons and flyers to so many, she found Luna staring up at the sky.

"Luna!" Hermione snapped, flustered. "What on earth are you staring at?"

"Butterflies," Luna replied, quite contentedly.

Hermione stared skywards. "There's _nothing_ there," she groaned. Scores of potential S.P.E.W. members were walking past. This was a waste of time—

But Luna had reached out a hand, and a blue butterfly came to rest on the edge of her index finger. "Isn't it pretty?" she asked.

Hermione could have sworn she hadn't seen anything in the sky, but then Luna let it fly away and continued to pass out flyers as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

After this little snag, though, things went rather nicely, much to Hermione's satisfaction. The malleable younger students, especially first years, accepted the buttons and flyers (reluctantly, but they still accepted them, Hermione thought to herself). They did, however, refuse the tea cozy.

Of course, most of the attention for S.P.E.W. Hermione owed much to what rested on Luna's head. She had managed to make a hat for the occasion—it was a short, squat, like a circular tin turned upside down and stuck on her head. S.P.E.W. was emblazoned in large, block letters across the front, which flashed different colors (When Hermione stared at it long enough, she saw bright spots in front of her eyes). And dancing on top of her hat, was a miniaturized Dobby, dancing with a Galleon in his hand.

Hermione had been thankful for it, since it alone caused students to stand there, gawking at the ridiculous headwear—long enough for Hermione to pounce and press a button and flyer upon them.

After she had forced several buttons into the hands of a couple unsuspecting second years, Hermione caught sight of a lanky, red headed boy who was bent over and obviously trying to sneak away unnoticed by his awful attempt to fit in with a group of fourth year Hufflepuffs. Hermione readily grasped the opportunity.

"Ron!"

He straightened up, the look of a criminal on his face. "Hi Hermione!" he said, a bit too cheerfully. "How's spew doing?" From the look on his face, she knew he regretted the question the moment it slipped from his mouth.

"It could be better," Hermione said, waving a button in his face, "if you'd help!"

"For the hundredth time, Hermione, you know Harry and I have Quidditch!"

"You could at least wear it on your robes!"

Ron shied away when Hermione tried to pin it to his shirt. "It looks ridiculous!" He looked so horrified the button might as well be a spider.

"It won't hurt you!"

But as Hermione tried to force the button onto the squirming Weasley she caught Luna in the corner of her eye. The Ravenclaw was speaking to a couple of fifth years, who looked rather uncomfortable as no doubt Luna was speaking about something preposterous. They took a couple buttons and flyers just to have an excuse to escape. That certainly was one strategy.

"You wear this on your robe, Ronald Bilius Weasley, before I put a permanent sticking charm on your skin!"

"Bloody Hell!" And Ron snatched the button and pinned it to his collar (rather aggressively, since he yelped when he accidentally poked himself). "Happy?"

Hermione smiled, shoving another into his hand. "Very. Thank you, Ron. And give one to Harry too, won't you?"

"Yeah, sure," he muttered.

"Not engaging in inappropriate behavior, are we, Weasel and Mudblood?"

Ron and Hermione turned to see Draco Malfoy standing there, a shining Head Boy badge gleaming on his chest. The gaggle of Slytherins behind him sniggered.

"I might have to take some points away from Gryffindor," Malfoy said, shifting his shoulder so his badge would glow brighter in the light.

"Shut it, Malfoy," Ron snapped.

"What's this?" Malfoy grabbed a button from a frightened looking first year. He sneered as he read it. "_Spew?_"

"Told you it was a bad name," Ron muttered to her.

"It's S-P-E-W," Hermione said haughtily, and gave her red headed friend a hard nudge in the ribs. "Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare."

Malfoy could hardly hold back his laughter. "Are you _serious_, Granger?" he gasped. "And I thought the teachers said you weren't stupid!"

"Excuse me," said a harsh voice beside her.

Hermione turned to see Luna. Had that voice just come from the dreamy Ravenclaw?

"Hermione Granger just happens to be the president of the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare," Luna said coldly. Her silvery eyes were like ice. "I think you should be a bit nicer to her."

From personal experience, Hermione knew that Luna only became snappish if her father or _The Quibbler _was insulted. It was a bit surprising then, that Hermione had been added to that very short list of things of which Luna became defensive—

No, it wasn't because of Hermione. It was because of S.P.E.W., that was it—

She wasn't the only one surprised by Luna's reaction. A large group of students had surrounded them, watching the confrontation, and most were staring slack jawed at this angry version of Loony Lovegood.

Even Malfoy took a step back, despite the fact that he was a foot or so taller than the younger Ravenclaw. "You know what, Lovegood?" Malfoy said, a hint of a quiver in his voice. "I'll join. Me and everyone in Slytherin."

Hermione couldn't quite believe her ears. "Really," she said, doubtful.

Her reply seemed to instill a renewed cruelty within him. An evil grin appeared on his face. "In fact, I'll be happy to dress up as a house elf!" he said, laughing. The group of Slytherins laughed along with him. "Face it, Granger, the day I or anyone'll join spew will be the day Loony Lovegood wins a game as Seeker of the Quidditch team!" He looked quite pleased with himself as not only his gang, but the rest of the onlookers laughed along in accord.

"You know," Ron muttered, "I agree with him."

Hermione thought that her eyes were going bad as Malfoy's image blurred in her vision. It was too late before she realized they were tears.

A sob crept up her throat. She dumped her S.P.E.W. paraphernalia into Ron's arms and pushed through the crowd. There was resounding _crack_ from behind her. She was much too distraught to look back, however, and continued running, out of the dark castle and outside, where she finally settled under the shade of a birch tree, obscured by bushes, where no one could see her.

She was such a foolish girl, crying over somebody as stupid as Malfoy—but the ridicule, the laughter of the other students, their firm belief that S.P.E.W. had no chance at all, it stirred all this frustration and anger within her, finally surfacing in this outburst of tears that she hadn't meant at all. How silly she was, the Head Girl crying over such trivial matters.

Several lonely hours later, Hermione stumbled through the portrait hole, looking disheveled. She was aiming straight for the girls' dormitory when she saw two figures approach her.

"There you are!"

Ron and Harry ran up to her, looks of true concern on their faces.

"You all right?" Ron asked, leading her to a cushy armchair. "You just ran off. We were looking for you—"

"I'm fine," she muttered. She noticed their S.P.E.W. buttons shining from their sweaters and had the worst urge to rip them off. She knew they were doing it because they felt sorry of her—

"You sure?" Ron said.

"Yes," she snapped.

"Good," he said, relieved at her angry reaction, for it meant she was back to normal. He fell back onto the couch, a grin on his face. "You know, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I am a little worried about Malfoy," he said to Harry.

Harry tried to suppress a laugh. "Luna did get him badly—"

"I think I'll go to—" It took a few moments for the statement to finally sank in. "Luna _what_?"

"She didn't tell you?" Ron asked, surprised.

"She didn't tell me anything! I didn't see her at all!"

Ron cleared his throat. "Well, right after you left," he said, "Luna ran right up to him with her wand and turned him into this big slimy thing in a Hogwarts uniform. Rather ridiculous, really."

"Looked like an big pink tongue," Harry said. "Didn't know she had it in her."

"Madam Pomfrey's got to change the sheets every half hour because he's oozing everywhere," Ron added. "Luna did get detention with Professor Flitwick, but he only did it because he had to. Turns out he really liked her hex and sent her away after ten minutes—"

Hermione could only stare at them. Dreamy, dotty little Luna Lovegood had hexed Malfoy into a greasy pink slug. It was because of his insults about S.P.E.W., no doubt. She did get horribly defensive over matters that were very important to her. It had nothing to do with Hermione being upset, not at all—

Why did she have to convince herself that Luna was doing things because of S.P.E.W. and not because of her?

She left Harry and Ron to laugh about Malfoy's misfortune and went up to bed. No one else was in the dormitory when she arrived. She had been going to bed rather early lately. After she made sure there weren't any Nargles crawling beneath her blanket, she let herself fall asleep, a part of herself hoping that this was all part of some odd, surreal dream.


	4. Pudding

Pudding 

She had a dream. She was walking through the corridors, where she welcomed the musty smell of old books and old castle walls. She was off to the library, as usual. They had another rather lengthy Potions essay to write, and unlike Harry and that hideous little book of his, she was going to do some good, honest researching herself. The essay had something to do with designing a potion to repel Aquavirius Maggots, because they were quickly becoming a preferred weapon of dark wizards—

Hermione turned the corner, expecting to see the comforting rows of books and students poring over textbooks, but instead she was in a big, empty room, a room that she quickly realized was the Room of Requirement.

A long, narrow mirror stood in at the very center of the chamber. She approached it, curious. She recalled Harry and Ron raving about it during their first year, but she couldn't remember what they had said. Her eyes traced the golden frame, the emblazed inscription on top, the clawed feet that planted it to the ground, and then, into the mirror itself—

She was standing, hand in hand, with a pale eyed girl, straggly blonde hair down to her waist, wand tucked behind her ear and a necklace of butterbeer corks. They were both grinning and giggling as they stared at the creature playfully squirming in the younger girl's arms, a piglike thing with furry little purple ears, like a hippo's, and spiraled horns—

Hermione woke with a start. That was one of the oddest dreams she'd had in a long time. She wondered if it had been the pumpkin juice she had drunk yesterday—

Yesterday. As in the day she had publicly humiliated herself in front of Malfoy and how many others. Her pleasant dream was shoved aside by the cruel laughter resounding in her mind. With a groan, she buried her face into her pillow and pulled the curtain of her four poster aside to let the harsh sunlight in.

The day was Saturday, and a perfect day to recruit more members, since nobody could use the excuse of homework. But S.P.E.W. was, surprisingly, the last thing on her mind.

She set out to find Luna during breakfast in the Great Hall, she couldn't find the little Ravenclaw anywhere. She gave Harry and Ron the excuse that she was going to the library to do some research, and went off on her search for Luna.

She wandered around the castle, hoping to bump into the girl, but to no avail. Hermione hoped Snape hadn't gotten his hands on her—after all, she had hexed his favorite student. But after snooping around the dungeons, she decided that Luna wasn't there after all.

A part of her knew that she couldn't find Luna anywhere. She finally gave up and sulked in the Gryffindor common room with her Arithmancy homework for the rest of the morning and afternoon. Harry and Ron were thankfully, not there, and for once in her life she hoped they were busy with Quidditch. The last thing she wanted was their prodding questions.

Soon Hermione had gotten used to the comforting pace of homework, and she was able to get most of it done. Whenever she was upset she could always turn to homework. However, this usually made her particularly crabby, which was how she felt when Harry and Ron finally climbed through the portrait late in the afternoon, clutching at their stomachs as they let out wild, raucous laughter. They finally subsided when they were out of breath—until they started up again.

She was clutching her quill so tightly in her hand that it almost bent in two. "What is it?" she snapped.

It took a while for the two boys to gain some form of composure. They fell onto the couch on either side of her, looking quite amused with themselves.

"You didn't hear?" Ron said. "Ravenclaw held tryouts today—"

"You know I don't care for Quidditch," she muttered.

"Nobody really cared to watch, since Ravenclaw did finish in last place last year," said Harry. "Even the captain said that isn't likely to change—"

"We should've though, that's a pity," Ron said.

"Well?" Hermione snarled.

"They had to find a new Seeker, see, since Cho left last year," Ron said. She wanted to slap the stupid grin off of his freckled face. "Guess who it is." And then the boys' guffaws started anew.

Hermione stared at them for a long time, before she felt the stone plummeting into her stomach.

"You mean—" she mumbled, clutching at her head. "Oh, Merlin's right sleeve—"

"Dear old Loony," Ron snickered. "Reckon she was the only one that showed up—"

"Well, they don't have anything to lose," Harry said.

"First match is against Slytherin, isn't it?" Ron asked.

But before Harry could reply Hermione had already left her textbooks scattered on the floor and had disappeared through the portrait hole.

Hermione stormed through the corridors, looking for that damned Ravenclaw. Many students made way for her, quickly sensing the Head Girl's anger and moving away before she could unleash her wrath upon them.

What on earth was that girl thinking? Of course, Hermione wondered that a lot, but especially now. Out of all the absurd things she had to do, she had to go off and try out for the Quidditch team—why couldn't Luna go off and brainwash a herd of captured Wrackspurts, like she proposed earlier? No, she had to go off and become Ravenclaw Seeker—Hermione would give her a good lecture, that's what she'd do—that ridiculous little girl—

She found Luna Lovegood sitting outside perusing a comic book, by the tree near the Great Lake. She would be easily overlooked, since she was obscured by the surrounding bushes and such—the only reason Hermione could find her was because she somehow knew where to look. _And how_, she thought to herself, rather indignantly, _did you know where to look?_

"Luna!" Hermione shrieked, fists at her sides.

Luna looked up from her magazine. Hermione stopped in her tracks. The familiar sight of the Ravenclaw had suddenly drained away the furious oration that had been forming in Hermione's mind for the past five minutes.

"Hello, Hermione," Luna said with a smile, as if Hermione had said a polite "good evening."

"I—I didn't see you today," Hermione said, in a weak voice.

"Oh yes, I was busy."

"You were busy," Hermione said blankly. If she hadn't known otherwise, she would have thought Luna had just been working on her essay for Transfiguration class.

"Yes, I was trying out for the Quidditch team," Luna said. "I did hear that tryouts were today, you see, so I showed up."

"Were you the only one who showed up?" Hermione asked, tentatively.

"Oh no, there were lots of other people too."

"To try out for other positions, you mean."

"No, for Seeker. It's a popular spot, you know."

"You mean," she mumbled, "there were other people trying out for Seeker?"

"Yes," Luna replied.

"And you—you were chosen."

"Yes."

"You were chosen as in, singled out as the best from a party of candidates."

"Yes."

"And the captain—he's new, isn't he?"

"Jeremy Stratten? He is a nice boy—"

"Never mind that. There weren't any Slytherins around that Confunded him?"

"There wasn't anyone except us," Luna said. "I think it's because nobody thought we were worth watching, considering our performance last year."

Hermione sighed, palm cradling her forehead. Hermione, despite her more-than-average-intelligence, could not wrap her mind around this absurd concept.

It had to be the Slytherins. No doubt they were scouting the other House Quidditch tryouts. Hermione didn't understand much of that athletic nonsense, but she wouldn't have been surprised if they had sabotaged the teams so they would have the upper hand. The odor of a certain Malfoy seemed to permeate from this scheme.

"You're sure."

Luna nodded.

"So you're the Seeker of the Ravenclaw team."

"We did establish that at the beginning of the conversation, didn't we?"

"Look, Luna, I know you're doing this because of what Malfoy said to you—"

"He made an interesting suggestion," Luna said, calmly. "And after commentating last year I thought playing sounded fun—"

Hermione felt a rise of panic within her. "But the first match—"

"Yes, they told me it's against Slytherin. I've already an eagle hat. I can make it eat a snake, and you can wear it, if you like."

"Thanks, Luna, but—are you sure that you'll be all right?"

"Of course," Luna replied, turning another page in her comic book. "Why?"

The Slytherins had enough fun with Luna when they were on the ground—Hermione was horrified to think about what they'd do to the poor girl when they were in the air. Luna was smaller and thinner than Hermione—she wouldn't last long against those burly savages.

"If you hurt yourself," Hermione found herself saying, "I don't know what I'll do." Was that a hint of desperation in her own voice? Why was she terrified for Luna's safety?

"Don't worry," said Luna reassuringly. "I'll still be able to help with S.P.E.W.—"

"Luna—"

"—I'll only have practice a couple times a week, so I can still go to meetings—"

"No, I mean—"

"And I can still make tea cozies and such, that's no problem at all—"

"I—"

"And maybe Harry and Ronald could help too—"

"_Luna, will you shut up and listen to me?_" Hermione screamed.

The Ravenclaw flinched, slightly shocked, but then set down her reading and sat still, listening.

Hermione stared hopelessly into the girl's pale, questioning gaze. This had nothing to do with S.P.E.W. In fact, she couldn't care less about S.P.E.W. at the moment—

A horrible vision seared her mind—those green robed barbarians shoving Luna and knocking Bludgers at her head—and then the girl's tiny, frail unconscious frame in a bed in the hospital wing—hot tears had formed and threatened to overflow.

"It's just that—" she croaked. What was she going to say? That Luna couldn't risk her life for Hermione's cause? What was it that bothered her so much, anyway? She was confused and flustered and scared all at the same time—she had never felt so overwhelmed before, and that was saying a lot, since she could handle a heavy N.E.W.T. load as well as S.P.E.W.—then why was she so emotionally distressed over one girl's foolish decision?

But the idea of Luna in the hospital wing was so unsettling. It hurt, to think about it, physically hurt—

"I don't want you to end up—you know, in bad shape," Hermione whimpered, and she knew at once it was the most insufficient thing she could ever say.

Luna studied her for a long moment. Hermione stared at the ground, forcing the tears back. For once, she didn't want to know what the Ravenclaw was thinking. God, she had no idea what was going on in her own head—

"Dinner should be ready soon," Luna finally said, looking skyward. "I do hope there's pudding."

The sudden change of subject caught Hermione off guard. "What?" she croaked.

"I wish I could skip dinner and go right to the pudding." Luna had a content smile on her face as she thought of the pudding that was in her future. "Don't you wish that sometimes, Hermione? Pudding is very important."

Hermione stared at the Ravenclaw as she lay back to watch the clouds, her fingers laced behind her fair head. There were times when she was blunt, even painfully so, and then there were other times there was no way to tell what was going on behind those gray, dreamy eyes.

"I—I guess," Hermione muttered. She was never tired after a hard day of classes, but for some reason, she felt incredibly exhausted. She fell on the ground next to Luna with a sigh. Then the thought of the two of them on the ground together was unsettling. She sat up again.

Luna propped herself up on her elbows. "Did you lay on a Nargle?" she asked, vaguely swatting at the ground where Hermione had just been.

"No, no, I didn't," muttered Hermione, too drained to tell her that Nargles didn't exist in the first place. "I just realized I have to finish my Arithmancy homework—"

It was Saturday afternoon. And besides that, Arithmancy wasn't due until Wednesday. Luna wasn't stupid. She saw right through Hermione's words—but she only nodded, and gave Hermione a dreamy smile. "I'll see you at dinner, then," she said, and Hermione could have sworn the girl had sounded a little sad.

"Yes, yes, I suppose," muttered Hermione, before she jumped to her feet and tried to walk away as casually as she could, before breaking out into a run when she had reached the castle corridors.

She had no idea what was going on anymore. The world was turning upside down. Luna Lovegood had just become Ravenclaw Seeker. Hermione Granger had become a complete mess, for no reason at all. And that dream, that ridiculous dream—

She returned to the common room and without much of a greeting to Ron and Harry, she finished her Arithmancy homework. And she found herself looking forward to pudding that night.


	5. A Bedside Companion

A Bedside Companion

For the next couple of days Hermione was utterly confused. Luna confused her naturally.

She decided to put S.P.E.W. on hold for a while after Luna had been announced the new Ravenclaw Seeker. After all, it was hard to squeeze in an advertisement for S.P.E.W. when everyone was blabbering about Loony the Seeker.

Hermione brooded through her N.E.W.T classes much to Ron and Harry's bewilderment. It wasn't everyday that Ron asked a question about potions and Hermione snapped, "I don't know, you bumbering idiot, why don't you look it up for once?"

But then again, it wasn't everyday that Luna Lovegood made the Quidditch team. Nothing in Hermione's vast intellectual capacity could fully explain this anomaly.

How on earth Luna became Seeker? Hermione did think it was quite gallant of the girl to show up for tryouts, but she never could quite comprehend the fact that out of all the hopeful contenders, Luna Lovegood was the one chosen.

Her Malfoy theory was the most reasonable thing she could come up with. The Slytherins did want the Cup desperately, having been beaten by Gryffindor several years in a row. It wasn't out of the question that Malfoy would do such a thing. He was a Slytherin, after all.

Hermione decided to have a civil conversation on the matter and confronted Malfoy and his gang about it. As expected, they denied any involvement ("Stratten just did the work for us, the good bloke he is," snickered Malfoy, who was still an odd shade of slimy pink). Even when Hermione had her wand at Malfoy's throat, he still denied it, and his sobbing revealed that he was, in fact, telling the truth.

Hermione wondered if the Slytherins had Confunded Stratten after all.

But that only meant—the team captain had made the clear and conscious decision to pick Luna as team Seeker.

_Inconceivable. _

This had to be some new strategy the Ravenclaws were using. Some students joked that if Luna were on the pitch, she would at least distract her opponents so Ravenclaw could score enough points and it wouldn't matter who caught the Snitch in the end. (Luna's new position had given many, even those of her own House, new fodder to make fun of Loony Lovegood. It all gave Hermione the sudden urge to master all the jinxes in her textbooks.)

That, or Luna was actually a capable Seeker.

_Inconceivable._

Of course, it wasn't like Hermione could find out from the source. Whenever Hermione asked Luna how she had become Seeker, the Ravenclaw would only reply, "Well, I heard that there were Quidditch tryouts so I decided to show up—" Hermione quickly gave up on asking Luna questions about her newfound position.

The other Quidditch players weren't much help either. Stratten's surprise move had scared the other teams, and suddenly all the Houses had taken a vow of silence when it came to matters of Quidditch, out of fear of being overheard. When Stratten was questioned about his decision, he only said, "Sorry mate, can't talk now, got to go to Charms in five minutes," despite the fact that it was eight in the evening and he was already done with classes for the day.

Even Harry and Ron had taken to the habit, casting _Muffliato _when they talked about some new plan or whatever, and even with the spell in place, they still constantly looked over their shoulders for Extendable Ears from eavesdroppers.

It became regular for students to guard the pitch entrances, so no inter-House spy could sneak in and steal a hard won strategy. Hermione had found this out when she had wanted to watch the Ravenclaw practice and instead encountered a rather thick set sixth year who threatened to hex her if she didn't leave. Hermione had the mind to hex him herself—after all, she probably knew twice as many spells than he did—but she decided against it. Even if she did knock him out and she did sneak in successfully, any sight of her would automatically label her as a spy. And, as Head Girl, that wouldn't be very good for her image.

She even considered asking Harry if she could borrow his Invisibility Cloak, but she knew at once he would suspect something, and she didn't want to drag either of the boys into her personal problems. They were more of a bother when it came to more emotional matters, anyway.

Of course, this endless mystery angered her—she could easily manage her N.E.W.Ts, and was by far the brightest witch of her year, but she couldn't figure out what on earth was going on. This only made her furious, and she spent her angry periods meticulously planning the scathing lecture she would erupt in Luna Lovegood's face, and after classes were over, she would tromp off to find the target of her rage—

Hermione saw Luna less often due to Quidditch practice. That fact made her angry too, and fueled her coming explosion. But sometimes she would find the girl sitting underneath a tree or behind a bush, reading a comic book or swatting at Wrackspurts, and the sight of the little Ravenclaw drained all the anger away.

This happened every other day or so, and their conversations were short, and followed the usual framework:

"Are you still Seeker today?" Hermione would ask, weakly, hoping that Stratten had finally come to his senses and changed his roster. Her internal fury had certainly taken its toll on her mind.

"Yes, Hermione, I'm still Seeker," Luna would reply, still reading her comic book or swatting invisible creatures.

And then Luna would start talking about something, usually some silly animal she found in her father's magazine, and Hermione would listen as she did her homework and would remark now and then about how absurd this animal was, but despite her words she found herself listening not because she felt sorry for Luna, but because she liked hearing Luna's whimsical voice, and she missed it—and then Luna would check her watch (not really a watch, since its face had ten perpetually moving hands), and say, "Oh dear, I'm going to be late for Quidditch practice." (Even if she heard it a thousand times, Hermione still wouldn't believe those words escaped the girl's lips) and then Luna would skip away, leaving Hermione feeling sad and bewildered and a bunch of other things.

It wasn't like Hermione got depressed when she didn't see Luna so much. It wasn't depression, exactly, it wasn't just one emotion—it was a terribly, totally illogical, mix of feelings—even with her immense vocabulary she couldn't find the right word for it. She couldn't even find the right _words_. She was just sad and angry and worried and confused and happy all at the same time when she thought of Luna, but she couldn't find the words that fit her inner turmoil _perfectly_, and that frustrated her.

Hermione didn't see Luna for a week. Even if she scarcely saw the Ravenclaw, it hadn't been as much as seven days, and that worried her.

She hoped Luna hadn't hurt herself during practice—Hermione checked the hospital wing daily, just in case—but after a while she worried that Luna had perhaps injured herself bad enough that she had to be sent home. It would explain why she didn't even see her in the hallways anymore. Soon enough her worry was replaced by panic.

Of course, she couldn't very well hide her distress from Ron and Harry. She spent more time snapping at them than usual.

"You think it's that time of the month?" Ron asked Harry.

"If you count six weeks as that time of the month," Harry replied.

The boils they received didn't disappear for two weeks.

It was finally one evening that Hermione spotted Luna by a cluster of bushes—at least, the spotted a group of Gryffindor fifth years, giggling and pointing at a cluster of bushes, where the Ravenclaw had hid herself.

Hermione approached them and cleared her throat. The Gryffindors turned to see a stern looking Head Girl—Hermione made sure that her wand was visible, as a silent reminder that she could do horrible things to them with it—and the girls only smiled innocently and scampered away.

"Hi, Luna," Hermione said, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Hello, Hermione," Luna replied. And before Hermione could say anything more, she said, "Yes, I'm still Seeker." She didn't seem bothered at all by the prior ridicule, as she flipped through her comic book.

"I guess I can hope for tomorrow, then," Hermione said. She was much too happy to see Luna that it was impossible for her to be angry. "How long do you have before practice?" If she was lucky, maybe she could have ten minutes with her. Ten wonderful minutes—

Why was she so desperate to talk to her?

"Two hours," replied Luna.

"It'll be dark by then."

Luna turned a page in her comic book. "Jeremy wants to see how well I can catch Snitches at night."

It was hard enough to catch Snitches during the day. What on earth was Stratten doing with her? Of course, if Hermione couldn't get any answers out of the other Quidditch players, she knew it would be impossible with Luna. She had already tried that tactic for the past couple weeks and it only frustrated her.

Hermione sighed and sat down next to the Ravenclaw. She opened one of her books, intent on finishing her essay.

Their past encounters had only been in passing, a couple sentences exchanged and then either Hermione or Luna had to go off and do something. It had been ages since Hermione had been with Luna for more than half an hour.

They sat in a comfortable silence, as Luna was reading her comic upside down and Hermione was reading her Transfiguration textbook the normal way.

"Did you know that there was another Snorkack sighting?" Luna finally asked.

"Those nonsense things?" Hermione said, taking notes on her parchment.

"It is _not_ nonsense," Luna said sternly. "Apparently they're not just in Sweden but in the United States as well." She very well knew the Gryffindor wanted to hear more about the story. "It was seen near this place called Ohio—a farmer said it looked like a deformed cow. But in my opinion, it looks less like a cow and more like a pig, that is, if a pig and a hippo were to mate, and the hippo managed to be furry and the pig managed to be purple—"

And Luna continued to talk about the similarities of the Crumple Horned Snorkack to certain animal species, and just how this creature was sighted in Ohio, and Hermione listened and said things like, "You couldn't honestly believe that," or "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard." But Luna kept on talking, and Hermione kept on listening, and although to the objective listening it would sound like an argument, they enjoyed this verbal exchange a great deal, having been devoid of it for so long.

After a while Luna set her book down and stretched. "I am sleepy," she mumbled.

"Take a nap then," said Hermione. She turned a page in her textbook.

"But people might steal my things," Luna replied. "That's what usually happens when I sleep—they find it hilarious—"

"Their faces will be covered in boils before they get within three and a quarter meters of your things, Luna." Hermione was speaking in all seriousness.

"You could just tell them to go away," Luna said.

"No. Boils are better." A satisfying image of a boily Harry and Ron crossed her mind.

Luna mulled over this a bit, before she replied, "Thank you, Hermione." And then before long she was curled up beside the Gryffindor, napping like a content little puppy.

The sun was setting. Hermione stopped studying for a while as she watched the sky turn a pleasant pinkish orange. She felt strangely content, sitting there. A peace came over her then, thinking about how nice the sky looked and girl sleeping beside her.

Yes, S.P.E.W. was close to death, and the world had turned upside down—but just Luna Lovegood's presence made everything suddenly feel all right—

A strong breeze soon passed through. Luna didn't have her school robe with her—she probably left it somewhere (or some insensitive bastard had stolen it), and when Hermione glanced at Luna to see her thin frame shivering.

"Luna?" Hermione said.

The Ravenclaw was still fast asleep, despite her physical discomfort.

"We should go inside. It's getting cold—"

Still no answer.

"Luna!" Hermione shouted in the girl's ear.

Luna continued to slumber and shiver. God, she could probably sleep through the apocalypse—

Hermione figured if Luna stayed here much longer she would catch a cold. But she continued to watch her, how Luna looked so content, sleeping there, and Hermione couldn't get herself to wake her.

"Honestly," Hermione muttered to herself. She slid off her own robe and draped it over the Ravenclaw's sleeping form. Luna stirred beneath the black and maroon colored cloak.

Hermione tried to go back to her reading, but found herself flustered. She glanced at Luna, her hands folded underneath her head as she lay on her side, a relaxed smile on her lips. She reached out a reluctant hand and brushed Luna's smooth, sun drenched cheek. The younger girl shifted and turned her head, her silver mane of hair shining. She giggled and muttered something, incoherent at first, but soon formed slurred words.

"See?" she murmured, her voice a bit more whimsical than usual. "I told you Snorkacks were real, Hermione—"

Hermione gasped and withdrew her hand. Luna was certainly having a dream, no doubt, a dream about those absurd Crumple Horned Snorkacks—but she was in it too.

Luna's words struck her as strangely familiar—she racked her mind, trying to find out _why_ they felt so familiar—but it was so difficult, trying to think amongst all the shock and everything else she was feeling.

A dream she had ages ago, she had long forgotten it, having been consumed by all this Quidditch nonsense. But it then struck her, all of a sudden, like a thousand charging Hippogriffs that hit her straight in the gut—the vivid image of a mirror, and standing with a certain wide eyed Ravenclaw with an absurd horned little creature—an odd sensation, like a euphoric shiver down her spine—

"Look, see, isn't he cute?" Luna murmured. "Let's keep him, Hermione—he can sleep between us in bed—"

_In bed?_

Luna stirred, slowly surfacing into consciousness. Hermione wondered if Luna had been woken by her mental shock, since even a scream in the ear couldn't wake her. She rolled on her side and gave Hermione a sleepy smile. "Hmmm?"

Hermione groped madly for an answer. She could feel her neck burning under her collar, with the girl looking at her like that—

"You were talking," she muttered.

"Oh, was I?" Luna asked, rubbing her eyes. She sat up and stretched. She finally registered the Gryffindor cloak that half covered her. "This is yours."

"Well yes," Hermione replied, a bit tentatively. "You looked cold."

Luna was silent for a moment, registering the Gryffindor's words. "Thank you, Hermione." She gave Hermione another heart melting smile.

Hermione felt as if her chest was just about to explode. She looked away, her cheeks scarlet. "Yes—yes, sure, Luna." She cleared her throat turned back to her essay.

But Luna certainly didn't read the hint. Or she did. Hugging Hermione's robe to her chest, she scooted closer to the Gryffindor, till their arms touched. Hermione's quill halted mid-letter.

"D'you want to know what my dream was about, Hermione?" Luna asked, her voice close to Hermione's ear, her breath brushing the girl's neck.

Hermione could barely form words. "Erm—"

Of course she knew what that absurd dream was about. Luna had been talking, and Hermione had certainly been listening. But for an instant Hermione wanted to listen to Luna, wanted to hear everything, where they were, what they did, how they found that silly Snorkack and why on earth they were sharing a bed. The thought of being in Luna's dream made Hermione feel higher than anything—but she shoved it all aside.

"Isn't it almost Quidditch?" Hermione croaked.

Luna checked her hundred-hand wristwatch. "Oh yes, it is, isn't it?" she asked. She handed Hermione her robe before she stood up and brushed herself off. "Good-bye, then, Hermione."

"Good-bye, Luna."

And Luna began to trot off in the direction of the Quidditch pitch before she stopped, and stood there for a moment before she turned around.

"I suppose I was a bit forward," she said, thoughtfully.

Hermione's eyes did not leave the parchment. "I don't know what you mean," she lied.

"I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable, Hermione," the Ravenclaw went on, as if she had heard nothing at all. "Good-bye, then."

Hermione shifted uneasily in her seat. "Yes, erm, good-bye, Luna."

"Good-bye." Luna smiled and trotted away, leaving Hermione more sad and bewildered as ever before.


End file.
